


Elementary, said He

by Jeanshard



Category: Merlin (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bone Breaking, Break Up, Bullying, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Make Up, Oi, Osteogenesis Imperfecta, Self Destructive Behaviour, Sexual Abuse, drugs abuse, h/c, transgender character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanshard/pseuds/Jeanshard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin Emrys is the youngest Holmes brother, and hero worships his elder two siblings</p><p>He is very aware the rest of the world does not</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick confession, I am not a 'Sherlock' fan (don't dislike it just not fond) so apologies if you aren't a fan of my adaptation. He's more based on the original books and with the antisocial streaks that feature on the show, apologies!
> 
>  
> 
> SPOILER
> 
> Merlin has osteogenesis imperfecta, brittle bones and will get hurt quite a bit, so here's a warning

By the time Merlin was halfway through his very first day of the new school he was very aware of why Sherlock skipped it so much.

In a single day he had managed to collect more bruises and lose more objects than his entire life had allowed him so far.

Even including the time Sherlock took him camping (but was really trying to find a missing cat), and left him alone in the tent and a bear came. It was definitely a bear. Even if Sherlock says it was just the cat taking some food and giving Merlin a scratch, Merlin knew the truth.

As he walked home (because he liked walking) Merlin decided Sherlock was the better brother. For now. Because he wasn’t going to make, or let, Merlin go to school, he wasn’t going to sign him up and he would teach him at home. But then Mycroft stuck his stupid nose in and told Merlin he’d love it. 

‘You’ll make friends’ he’d said. All the other kids were stupid and didn’t want to talk about anything other than playing.

Then Mycroft had argued Sherlock would be a ‘terrible teacher’ which was probably fair, but Merlin’s own teacher took books off him because ‘he was too young to read them’ and Sherlock had never ever done that.

Honestly, Merlin wasn’t sure why they were bothering send him to school. Sherlock had said there was no point, that Merlin would almost definitely get hurt and his life was too short. He shouldn’t waste it, apparently, but Merlin felt fine and Mycroft got upset when he said there was ‘no point.’

Merlin got home and slammed the door behind him. It was stupid they lived in a mansion. Who lived in a mansion and had no money?

He grumbled on his way to the kitchen, dropped his bag on a chair and ambled to the fridge. As usual there were few things edible, and Merlin wondered if frog spawn were the same as caviar and would Sherlock really mind if he only tried a little?

Merlin shuddered at the tray of dead mice Sherlock had placed over the plate of left over lasagne. He would need to get Sherlock his own mini fridge for Christmas so the entire house didn’t look like it belonged to asylum members.

“Sherlock!” He whined. “Stop putting dead things on top of my food!”

“You eat dead things!” He heard Sherlock call from somewhere on the opposite side of the first floor.

“Not mice! I’m not Reinfeld!”

“Who?”

Merlin spun round, knowing Sherlock would know that he was talking about the insane man in Dracula who at all the rats, and even so would never admit Merlin knew more than him.

Merlin turned to see a confused, blond face. A very pretty blond face that looked like it could belong to Jamie Lannister and save the world.

Merlin cocked his head, and the boy glared a little.

He was around seventeen, older than Sherlock. But Sherlock had been put ahead a few years, so they were probably in class together. Sherlock never wanted or talked about friends, so the two weren’t particularly amicable. He looked pretty angry so it was clear he wasn’t here on a social call. No one ever was. And from the clutter of papers on the table Merlin guessed he was here to work.

“What revenge will the teacher suffer, for not putting you by yourself?” Merlin asked, curious.

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up his head, but then he threw his head in his palms and groaned.

“I think her combination of divorce and menopause should be revenge enough.” Merlin could tell Sherlock was shrugging.

“You say that like you planned it.” Merlin replied, grinning as he found a pack of cookies nowhere near any of Sherlock’s experiments.

“How do you know I didn’t?” Sherlock boasted. He knocked in to the room with his hands full of paper and a globe. Merlin decided to sit across the counter; he had a love of watching Sherlock try to teach people who weren’t wired like him.

“Alright, Arthur.” Sherlock sounded both soothing and patronising. It was a gift. “This is Asia, OK? And here is the *Nile*” Sherlock stressed the word. “It’s a very long river-”

“For christ’s sake, I know what the Nile is!” The boy, Arthur, spat. “And this has nothing to do with the project!”

“It has everything to do with the project!” Sherlock argued back. “If you can’t tell me how dung beetles were important to ancient Egyptian society, how do you possible think we can talk about mummification?”

“Our project is for biology!” Arthur snapped.

“Yes, but if we’re going to do a project on the Egyptians absolutely deserve a mention.” Sherlock decided, nodding his head.

“That’s stupid.”

“Actually ancient Egypt was one of the furthest advanced in Medicine of their time, even for hundreds of years after.” Merlin began to say. “Heaps of their cures worked relatively well, they had a really clever way of-”

“Oh my god!” Arthur shouted. “Two of them, there are two Sherlock’s. What did I do to deserve this?”

“Came through the door?” Merlin guessed. Sherlock gave him a proud nod.

“Shut up.” Arthur whipped. “Can we just come up with a plan and I’ll go home.”

“I will happily do the whole thing. I could knock it off in a night and-” Sherlock began. Merlin wondered if he knew that there was no way in hell Arthur would let that happen. Usually Sherlock didn’t waste effort giving people options.

“No, I said I’ll do it. I need to do it or it doesn’t count.” He grumbled. Then he turned round to face Merlin again. “Stop staring at me! Why do you two do that, it’s so weird.” He shuddered.

“Arthur’s just irritant because he wanted to get partnered with Guinevere-” Sherlock sighed.

“The one who takes vitamin pills so she can skip meals?”

“Nice catch Merlin.” Sherlock nodded as Arthur squawked. But Merlin didn’t care, because he loved it when he was making Sherlock proud. “And Arthur’s angry he got me instead.”

“Oh, I thought he was stressed about his dropping grades.” Merlin mumbled, sweeping his bag off the floor to leave. Sherlock made an interested humming noise.

“Excuse me?” Arthur said, and he stood up looking angry. This was why Merlin tried not to talk to people. “Did your freak brother tell you that?”

Sherlock was obviously unfazed from the insult, weathered down from years of them already.

“No. You’re shaking hands did. And if the teacher is making you all pair up she’d do it top of the class to bottom, so there was an advanced person and someone who required more help. I’m pretty sure Sherlock’s at the top.” Merlin summarised. He swung his bag on to his shoulder, ignoring Arthur’s shouts (that were not nearly as loud as his father’s) and began to walk off. “And if you call him a freak again I will hack your laptop and upload every single picture you have on there to facebook.”

***

“So Merlin, why facebook?” Sherlock smiled later over dinner. “Surely twitter would have been better if you wanted Arthur to face humiliation.”

Through a mouthful of chips, Merlin began to explain:

“He’d have his family on facebook, and he’s clearly super influenced by his dad’s opinion. If it got back to him Arthur was putting up dodgy stuff, because he’s the type to think saving porn under a name like ‘homework’ means no one will see it, his dad will be furious.”

“I love it all but your use of the words super and dodgy. Buck up Merlin, I won’t have your lack of vocabulary pulling us down.” Despite the light scolding, Sherlock sounded fond. “Since when did you learn to start hacking computers?”

“Since I got one.” Merlin shrugged. He was actually getting very good at it; he could break in to more than two hundred websites at last check. And any facebook, twitter, or youtube Mycroft really liked that he could do that, too, and it was nice to get to impress his older brother. But he shouldn’t brag to Sherlock, that rarely ended well.

They sat in mutual silence. Usually the two of them didn’t even need to speak to make conversations. But there conversations weren’t normal anyway. They never had to ask ‘how was your day’ because they could see. Merlin could see that Sherlock’s eyes were tired but not dark, so today had been long but not too hard, and that he wasn’t shaking and he was perpetually annoyed but not angry. He wasn’t rubbing at his arms, which meant he was sticking to his promise.

And Sherlock could probably see that Merlin had put on a jumper even though the house was warm for once. He could probably see Merlin was limping a little and that his bag wasn’t as heavy with books as it was earlier. Merlin knew he wouldn’t have to guess that people had hit him and taken his things, because that was what happened to Sherlock too.

But Sherlock could also see Merlin hadn’t had any breaks today, and he knew Merlin would ask for help if he needed it.

It made the teasing a little easier to deal with. That Merlin’s big brother, who was most of the things Merlin wanted to be, didn’t like school and school didn’t like him either.

Merlin wondered if he could push his luck and ask Sherlock to watch a film with him, or something. Sherlock was horrible to watch films with; he would always pick up on prop flaws or silly things that didn’t matter. Or he’d list every grammatical flaw or opinion and yell it out at the important parts. And he always knew the plot twist straight away and yelped it out before Merlin could have a go.

But Mycroft had told Merlin that Sherlock was a little delicate right now, and he needed them to be his friends. Not body delicate, like Merlin and his bones, but feelings delicate. Sometimes Mycroft spoke to him like he was much younger.

“Do you want to do something?” Merlin asked as the two of them began to tidy away their plates.

“I have an experiment.” Sherlock stated. Then he emptied the fridge of the frogs spawn and mice and loped off upstairs.

Merlin was alright with that, though, if Sherlock was.

Merlin sat down at the table, absent minded drawing on a napkin. He loved drawing; it was amazing to watch the tiny strokes of pen create an entire universe, a complete secret that unveiled for him.

His drawing was interrupted from a really shrill beeping noise that had to have come from a phone. He followed the noise to see a fancy iphone, that had to belong to Arthur, shoved under a cushion.

He wasn’t sure if he should answer or not. The name was ‘home’ and he didn’t want to make Arthur get in trouble.

“Hello?” He said tentatively into the mobile.

“Who the hell is this?” It was Arthur yelling down the line.

“Merlin.” Merlin replied. He bent down, finding half a fishing rod shoved under the couch.

“Who?”

“Sherlock’s brother.”

“Did you steal my phone?”

“If I stole your phone why would I answer it after?” Merlin reasoned. He didn’t even need a phone, there was no one to call. “And if I did steal it, you wouldn’t know about it.”

“Pretty big talk for a pretty little kid.”

“Size isn’t an indicator of skill.” Merlin grumbled. For some reason Arthur snickered at the word size, but Merlin wasn’t sure why. “Anyway, I’ll tell Sherlock to give you your phone tomorrow.” Merlin was about to hang up when he heard Arthur make a shriek of protest.

“Wait, wait. So, you’re Sherlock’s brother, right?”

“Wow, I thought he was exaggerating how stupid you guys are.” Merlin said back, genuinely worried that Arthur had to ask this many times.

“Right. So, what kind of stuff does he do?” Arthur sounded wolfish, excited. Merlin wasn’t sure why.

“Stuff. Why do you want to know?” Merlin said back. He was pacing up and down the lounge, wondering what to do with the night. Maybe he could ask Arthur if he could play games on the phone.

“I’m his friend, I’m worried about him.” Arthur said, lowly. Merlin knew that wasn’t true, though. He wished it was, but it wasn’t. Sherlock didn’t like friends.

“Ok.” He said back. He knew not to give the fact he knew Arthur was lying away.

“So, like, what kind of stuff does he do? For…fun?” Down the line, Merlin was positive he heard a distinct snicker. 

“I don’t know.” Merlin tried to think of something normal. He definitely couldn’t say Sherlock made experiments with frogs and god knows what else the butcher let him have. “Movies, books, just stuff. Can I go now?”

Mycroft was teaching him to be polite, because Merlin couldn’t really help but be rude sometimes.

“Wait, uh, look, go on his laptop and look through his history.” Arthur shouted. Merlin could definitely hear someone else whispering behind him.

“Why?”

“God, he’s just as big a pain as his brother.” He heard someone hiss, but Arthur told them to shut up.

Merlin decided they were spies, and trying to get information on Sherlock.

“Uh, you there?” Arthur sounded worried. He should be. Merlin wasn’t going to let people bully Sherlock like last time, not so he got hurt again.

“Yep.” Merlin snuck up to his room, pulling out his laptop and beginning to look for Arthur’s email. He had something in mind.

“Ok, get his computer.”

“Got it.” It was only half a lie. Merlin had a computer.

Arthur began to feed him instructions (that would have been wrong anyway) to go through Sherlock’s search history. He heard someone whispering about porn in the background and decided he would get Arthur suspended from school, too.

Merlin interrupted Arthur’s spiel, deciding he would hack his emails, send an offensive one to school. Then he would go through Arthur’s phone, because the pass code would be easy, and figure out a plan from there. Arthur was definitely the kind of guy who kept incriminating stuff on his phone.

“Arthur?”

“Yes.” The other boy snapped. There was a collective sigh in the background, probably three other people.

Merlin sent the email off and grinned.

“How long to people get suspended for if they send an offensive email to school?”

“Who the fuck cares?” Arthur yelled, exasperated. Already Merlin could see the school had opened the email. 

“Your dad will, the school want you out for a week.” Merlin beamed. Silence fell down the line as he scanned through the texts. Bingo, Arthur had two ‘girlfriends’ who didn’t know about each other. And he was sending graphic messages to a guy, which would be good black mail material. Merlin could tell Arthur was afraid of being called gay.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Arthur, do Vivian and Mithian know you’re texting them both?” Merlin was positively glowing. “I’ll quickly send them a message, there we go, so there isn’t any confusion.”

“Are, what, how the hell-” Arthur was spluttering.

“Oh, the school replied. Check your email.”

He heard panicked squeaks down the line and then three minutes of silence.

“I am going to fucking kill you!” Arthur was screaming. “I will tear you apart, and if your brother thought he had it hard before then-”

“He’ll be surprised to hear about Gwaine.” He hear Arthur give a scream down the line then charge off down the path, muttering and yelling at his friends to ‘piss off.’

“What do you want?” Arthur snarled. “I swear to god if you ask me to spend time with you-”

“Self-obsessed, much.” Merlin lent back in his chair, enjoying the feeling of being a crime lord. It was something he enjoyed, nine years with Sherlock and Mycroft taught him to enjoy being on top whilst it lasted. “Just leave Sherlock alone. Don’t be an ass to him. It’s literally easier than bothering him.”

“Need his little brother protecting him?” Arthur sneered. The honest answer was yes, but Sherlock wouldn’t appreciate that.

“Don’t worry yourself with the idea of taking care of someone; I’m sure an ass like yourself wouldn’t get it.”

“What if I don’t leave your brother alone?”

“Is everyone this slow or are you a special case?” Merlin was a little tired. Why was Arthur being so idiotic about this? “In- six minutes?- of minimal effort work I got you suspended, an official school record for conduct, broken up with two girls and could out a third companion who is male. Which you’re ashamed of but God knows why. Imagine what I could do with the rest of my time?” He smiled.

He heard Arthur scream and then hang up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, just to clarify-
> 
> Merlin has type 1 OI and it isn't very obvious
> 
> Very few people are aware of OI, many doctors will not think of it and it's barely mentioned in medical training

Merlin knew that the girl in their class called Morgana was technically a boy. He knew even before anyone else did. He knew before she accidentally fell over and someone knew she was shaped weirdly. He knew before the teacher was accidentally caught telling a TA and a boy heard. He knew for a long time.

He also knew it didn’t matter.

Merlin knew that the things that made you up were not necessarily the same things that made you a person. Like he had brittle bones but he wasn’t feeble. Morgana had the stuff that made her body a boy and her head a girl. It wasn’t a bad thing.

But Merlin also knew people wouldn’t think like that.

He grew up different, with two heroes that were different, and knew that if anything about Morgana became obvious it would be very hard for her. So he kept quiet.

Until other people started noticing. He only let it happen once, but even that one tile burned like fire in his stomach.

“Fucking hell, you’re a poof!” He heard someone shout. Merlin pushed his head in to his book, thinking they meant him. “Dressing up, fucking perv!” He realized they didn’t mean him. Large jumpers and jeans were nothing dangerously odd.

Kids in this school seemed older than in his other. More ready to hurt and fight. Bigoted.

“Look at you, boys don’t even cry!” He heard a boy yell. Valiant. He had a penchant for grabbing Merlin’s money and books and threatening to hurt him. Merlin didn’t dare let him know he could.

Merlin tried to read on. He tried to turn himself off and out like Sherlock taught him. He tried so hard.

But then he heard Morgana crying. He heard the boy trip her up and could tell she was hurt. He knew what it was like, to be weak and hurt alone.

So he slipped his book in his bag, stood up on legs that weren’t yet broken and began to walk to the noise. Stupidly, like Sherlock would never do, and alone like Mycroft would scoff at. There wasn’t anything he could do to stop it other than be there. And he would like that if he was Morgana.

“You know, you’re parents must hate you.” He heard Valiant snarl.

Merlin pulled up his mental file on Valiant.

“At least her dad didn’t take off on her.” Cheap shot. It wasn’t fair to make it, but it would hurt. Valiant took a while to turn round, and the spin of his body showed Morgana curled on the floor, crying. Nothing too bad though, she didn’t look broken.

“Piss of freak show.” Valiant tried to spit at Merlin. “Leave the little creep on the floor to me.”

“Leave her alone.” Cold, calculated. Merlin gave the Holmes’s name justice through his tone, if not his actions.

“It’s a dude!” He screamed. Merlin would maybe need to ask Morgana which pronoun she preferred. He assumed female for the time being. “Take off, I wasn’t done here!”

“You against a younger girl is a pathetic fight.”

“Not a girl!” Valiant screamed. “I’ll show you.” He went to grab Morgana, presumably to pull up her skirt or something before Merlin had his plan.

“You seem awfully desperate to look. What’s wrong with you? Is that why your dad left? Angry he was raising a creep?” Merlin sneered. Valiant dropped Morgana like a stone and immediately began to drawl after Merlin. “Go.” He mouthed at Morgana, and he was grateful she did.

It was simple, then, actually. Valiant was a raging bull and Merlin was a distant piece. Merlin knew the book shelf was rickety, and a well-aimed push had it launching straight down, toppling over Valiant and creating a crash.

The plan would have been excellent. But obviously the universe hated Merlin and that was when the head teacher decided to come trawling through the library.

***

Mycroft was quiet on the walk home, and Merlin didn’t dare speak.

When they got in, he sat Merlin down at the table and perched across from him.

“You are so, incredibly stupid.” Mycroft sneered. “If I hadn’t come down, they would have panicked and called child line. You know it causes a fuss when dad can’t go.” Merlin felt his cheeks heating. “Not only that, but you acted like a total thug. A cretin, the kind of people we are meant to be better than.” Merlin didn’t even try to explain he was trying to protect someone. “And what do you suppose would have happened if that boy caught you? He’d have snapped you like a twig. Hospital and police involved and the family are dragged through the mud again.” Merlin didn’t dare say a word.

Mycroft slammed his hand down and Merlin jumped.

“If you dare make a fool of us like that again you will not like the consequences!” Merlin didn’t need to be good at reading people to know Mycroft was serious.

Merlin waited until Mycroft went off to huddle in a ball and stay quiet.

***  
When Merlin heard that athletic officials from the older school were coming over to organise a sports day, he knew there was no God (which was what Sherlock always said, but still).

Because that meant Merlin’s teacher, who was nice and kind and knew he couldn’t really do sports (and didn’t want to) was taking the younger kids and he was left with teenagers. He could barely cope with people his own age who were meant to be stupid, never mind the whole ‘future leaders of the country’ who still laughed at the word penis.

And none of the teenagers believed him when he said he couldn’t do it. At first they were ok, if a little patronising, but then they got mad and told him to ‘stop making stuff up.’ He wasn’t making it up. He only ever made up things on paper.

But one of the nicer girls who had brown hair and kind eyes said if he got a note from his normal teacher it would be fine, so he went off in search of her.

“Ouch!” Merlin shouted, bouncing off something large and strong. His sides hurt. Merlin quickly wriggled but could tell he hadn’t broken anything, so that was fine. He was fine. No one had to worry.

“Watch it!” The pillar of a human snapped, and Merlin flinched. He remembered the voice. “It’s you!” Arthur accused. His hands shot to both sides of Merlin and pinned him in to the wall. Which was not good.

“Quit it.” Merlin grumbled. He hoped Arthur wouldn’t break anything of him. Mycroft would be mad if that happened because Sherlock would start…

“Do you know what your little stunt did?” Arthur spat. Privately, Merlin answered ‘got you to leave Sherlock alone’ but didn’t want to say it. “Almost got me suspended. I have to do this stupid thing to stay in school.”

“Ok.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“You deserved it.” Merlin said back, defiant. “Let me go.” He remembered what Mycroft said about treating people with respect. Or at least giving the illusion of it. “Please.” The word didn’t feel like grit, like it did for Sherlock.

Arthur dropped his arms, scowling and looking furious, if a little surprised.

“Where the hell are you going?” The blond boy grumbled. Happy that Arthur wasn’t going to hurt him, Merlin began to scan him up and down for information. Tracksuit and top, he had to get involved. Eyes tired, hands nervous, trouble at home. Tired. Face- “Stop scanning me.” The boy ordered. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to get my teacher to write a note, because no one believe I have OI and can’t do the sports day because they’ve never heard of it and therefore it doesn’t exist-” Merlin stopped explaining, surprised at hearing Arthur laugh. “What?”

“Your brother pulls this crap all the time. Can’t do PE cause he’s hurt himself, he’s terminal blah blah blah. No way in hell am I letting you off with it, too.” Arthur mocked. He gave Merlin a glare that would even make Mycroft flinch. “Go.”

“I’m not allowed to do it.”

“Says who?” Arthur mocked. “Your bothers don’t count. Maybe if they’d sucked it up and not been so up their own arses, people wouldn’t hate them so much.” Merlin closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. People didn’t know his brothers. It wasn’t fair to hate them. “Go.”

Arthur shoved Merlin away from the wall and Merlin felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t!” He yelped. Nothing was broken; it was fine because nothing was broken. No need to panic. “Arthur, please, I’ll get hurt and Mycroft will kill me.” He begged. Merlin tried his hardest, to push out some emotion that would compel Arthur to trust him. Sherlock taught him to keep all his thoughts inside, and Mycroft taught him to mask them. He couldn’t do that right now.

For a moment, Arthur looked like he was taking it seriously. But Merlin could see the exact moment his face contorted with hate.

“Why on earth would I trust you?” Arthur sneered, about to jab Merlin forward, but Merlin jumped.

In the few moments it took Arthur to try and push him again, Merlin had formed a plan. He’d go with Arthur. He wasn’t quick enough to run away from Arthur without being caught. He’d go out on the field and find a teacher to take him straight back off it. There was no point trying to further convince Arthur, he’d not only burnt that bridge but blasted it to smithereens. It was worth it, though.

Sherlock had seemed much better, lately. Merlin could tell he wasn’t being bothered at school nearly as much.

He eventually dragged himself on to the field, blinking in the sunlight. It was interesting, watching the teenagers set up the games and his class mates get excited for them already. It was nice, to see so many people look so entirely happy. He wasn’t really used to that.

For the first time he could remember, Merlin wished he were like them. Even if it made him stupid, apparently the ultimate sin, he kind of would like to just be that easily happy.

He flinched, thinking of how pathetic his brothers would see him.

Merlin spotted a teacher who didn’t mind him, too much. The lady, Miss Nimueh, usually didn’t care if he just sat and read. And all the teachers got told that Merlin shouldn’t be doing too much. She’d vouch for him.

But before Merlin could slink off, Arthur grabbed hold of his collar and started towing him off to a collection of hoops and hurdles.

“This looks like it was set up for ponies.” Merlin whined. He could have sworn Arthur grinned before telling him to shut up.

“Hello, weren’t you going to get a note?” The girl from earlier with the curly hair smiled, crouching down beside Merlin.

“Jesus Mithian, he’s just trying to flake out.” Arthur replied, sounding long suffering. “This is one of the Holmes brother’s; you know what they’re like.” Arthur shook his head and glowered at Mithian.

“Don’t be nasty, Arthur, Merlin’s only little.” Mithian said it so kindly Merlin didn’t even take offence. And Mithian was possibly his ticket out of this, so he would take whatever she said. “I tell you what, Merlin, just try a few things and then take a break, alright?”

Merlin hid his scanning of her under a beaming smile. Very pretty. She was smiling, common thing, especially judging by the lines etched in to her face. She took good care of her skin and hair, proud but not in a nasty way.

“He can go play football, only the girls are here Mithian.” Arthur started to shuffle him off.

“Oi, Homles!” Merlin heard Valiant yell. He tried to do a 360 but Arthur wash shoving him forward.

“Stick up for yourself, Holmes.” Arthur snapped.

“No one let you skip this time?” Valiant snarled. Merlin was surprised that the losss of Arthur at his back made him nervous. “’Bout time, the boys and I have been waiting to watch you flail about on here.”

“For such a homophobe you’re really keen to watch boys, aren’t you?”

“Shut up, Holmes.” Arthur shouted. He pushed Merlin forward, stupidly acting like Merlin was normal. It was barely anything, but it still made Merlin fall over with a snap.

He gasped and hated himself for being that weak. He felt the splinters of pain shooting up his left leg but it wasn’t a bad break. Not one that would need him taking morphine at home and tempting Sherlock. 

“Stop causing a drama.” He felt Arthur try to drag him up and went boneless. He heard Arthur choke on something, probably noticing the 90 degree angle of Merlin’s leg before he (hopefully accidentally) dropped Merlin to the floor. “Fuck!”

Arthur crouched down then, eyes looking panicky and Merlin wanted to help him. Only seeing the insane degree of his leg and the pain it created made him feel woozy and tired.

“Stay awake, crap, crap!” Arthur was yelling. He clearly had no idea what to do, and reached forward to try and touch the break.

“Don’t!” Merlin shouted, curling away and hurting his ankle more.

“I.. I didn’t mean to, shit I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Merlin deduced he probably didn’t. That Arthur sounded shocked and genuine and like he couldn’t believe it had happened. But Merlin was in pain and he needed to go to hospital. Mycroft had warned him about this, he was going to get them all in trouble and it would all be his fault when they fell apart again. He couldn’t breathe, he was going to die and-

“Merlin, Merlin listen.” Arthur’s hands along his back were surprisingly soothing. “We called an ambulance, ok, they’re going to be here really soon. They can’t get your dad-”

“He’s working.” Merlin lied.

“Ok, alright, who else is there?”

Saying no one was a bad idea. But having Mycroft there would be terrible. Sherlock would become a mess.

Thankfully, the decision was taken from Merlin’s hands when a badly (probably well-ly) aimed football bounced against his broken leg. The pain of it was enough to make him faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments and kudos will find a loving home here


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAH SO SO SO MUCH HAPPENED AND UGH
> 
> schools crazy, a pet died, i became two types of prefect, got a job and signed up for nanowrimo. WHY WHY WHY
> 
> so updates wont be as regular on any story as usual but i will do my best
> 
> Sorry guys!

Merlin did not like hospitals.

He didn’t mind being a patient, not really, but it reminded him of all the times Sherlock was sick. Times when Merlin would have to slink in the room secretly, when he’d see his big brother with bandages on his wrists and neck. Those trips made Merlin shaky and stupid, so he’d sometimes hurt himself on the way home. They’d only happened twice, until Mycroft made them move schools and Sherlock wasn’t as tragic any more. A little more enduring.

But Merlin knew he wouldn’t ever forget the chemical smell or the two clean façade of the place. The clinical colours or never ending plastic. It was different, easier, to wake up the one in pain instead of watching someone you loved hurt.

He was very grateful Mycroft and Sherlock were not there visiting him. He could not stand their hurting, angry stares for putting them in danger again. Merlin always fucked them up.

‘Fuck’s a bad word, don’t swear don’t be uncouth stop making us look bad.’

“Are you awake?” Croaked someone. Arthur? Merlin could hardly believe Arthur was here, but there was, the now tousled, blond head perched on the edge of a weak chair. “Or are you going to start snoring and drooling again?”

“I don’t snore.” Merlin tried to reply, but the words got jumbled on his fuzzy tongue. It was nice, floating on a cloud with no cares. There was something wrong though, a distant thought or memory he couldn’t latch on to. “I feel, we-weeird.”

“You’re on morphine.” Arthur laughed, gently. That sent hot iron through his spine. No, no, no, no Merlin couldn’t be on morphine.

“Has, has sh-sherlock. Sheeeeeeerlock. Weird name.” Merlin rubbed his eyes. He was still worried, but he was so tired. He still felt the pain, but the dull haze seemed to mask the pain, or make it less important. “Oh, has he been, here?”

Arthur bit his lip, looking really worried.

“I’m, sorry. No.” He whispered, probably eyeing Merlin for any sight of tears. But for Merlin, that was good news. If Sherlock hadn’t been here then he wouldn’t have siphoned off the drugs for himself. “But, Mycroft has.” Arthur rushed to fill. “And he’s going to come pick you up tomorrow, he’d be here if he could.”

“T’ss ok.” Merlin slurred. “Don’t want, want him here. Mad Mycroft, mad mad mad mad…” He began to chat. Even through the drug induced haze, Merlin could see the worried look on Arthur’s face.

“Why would he be mad? It wasn’t your fault.” Arthur said, slowly, tasting the words before they left his mouth.

Merlin could. He could have been better, not gone outside or gotten in the way. He could have come up with a working plan, like they always did. He could have been someone else and not been such a waste.

“It’s always my fault.” Merlin nodded, before falling asleep.

***

Merlin woke up later, by himself in the dead of night. He wondered if he’d dreamed of Arthur being there, before scolding himself. There was no reason Arthur would come. The real question was why Merlin had dreamt him there.

***

Mycroft took him home, without a word or anger of forgiveness. He left Merlin perched on the couch, coated in a layer of pillows and a duvet, a plate of food placed on the table across from him. He didn’t say a word, but placed a phone beside Merlin before he returned himself to school.

It was weak, stupid, childish and worthless to cry. But Merlin wanted to. He fell asleep, eager to distract himself from the dull throbs in his foot and head. His thoughts buzzed too much, the constant whirl of ideas and theories created constant information over load. He wasn’t even as smart as his brothers, he didn’t have as much in him as they did and still they coped better.

Merlin was oh so tired of being this useless. He was not good enough for his family and his name, from his flaking body or his trembling mind.

When Mycroft got home, he was still in his uniform with his bag by his side.

“I want you to remember, Merlin, that we are Holmes’s. We need to take care of ourselves, your old enough to handle people.” He said, coldly. “If I can’t trust you with that, then I can’t trust you with anything.”

He didn’t say anything else, but Merlin knew. He knew that if Sherlock had gotten hooked on morphine again it would have been bad, Merlin’s fault and so bad.

Merlin was oh so tired of being this useless. He was not good enough for his family and his name, from his flaking body or his trembling mind.

***

“You’re my friend now.” Merlin looked up from his book, surprised to hear a frim voice above him. Morgana.

“Umm…” Merlin didn’t want to argue, not really, and he could tell Morgana wasn’t joking. But she couldn’t really know what she was doing; no one wanted Merlin as a friend.

“You helped me and then my idiot brother got you hurt.” She said back, comfortably slotting herself beside him and forcing him to shuffle over. “But I have an extra chocolate bar to say sorry and you can have it.” She extended her arm to him, lolling it in front of him. He reached his hand out, and she tugged it away slightly, giggling. “If you’ll be my friend.”

Merlin smiled, picked the bar out of her hand and began to off the wrapper.

“I’m not sure why you’d want to be my friend.” He confessed, mouth full of chocolate. “But OK.”

“You’re like a super hero, you read minds.” She whispered. “What am I thinking?”

“That I can read minds?”

Morgana’s laugh surprised him, and Merlin worried she was making fun of him.

“You’re very funny, Merlin.” She smiled. “You are a good choice as a friend.”

***

It was ridiculous how much better school became, with a friend. Whilst Merlin wished he’s had more time to read and write and draw again, having Morgana to talk to was brilliant.

She really liked that he could deduce things, and every now and again he would teach her how to do of parts of it too. And Merlin was perfectly happy to sit and listen to her chat, and somehow he always knew how to answer the question or the right way to help.

Sometimes he wasn’t kind enough, and Morgana would go off in a huff and not speak to him for a bit. But then she’d come back, and forgive him before he’d asked to be and he’d do the same for her. What he said always worked, anyway, and he figured that helped.

Merlin would go round Morgana’s on Tuesdays, and he would help her with homework and then they’d order takeout. It was Tuesdays on purpose, that was the day Arthur went to Merlin’s house to work on his project with Sherlock.

“I’m not really sure what you did to piss of my brother so.” Morgana was always honest around Merlin. Swears were very honest. “But thanks for it; he never wants to be here when you are.”

“I think I was rude to him.” Merlin said back. From spending time with Morgana he was getting far better at knowing what was polite and what wasn’t. Not that Morgana was particularly polite herself, but she was becoming much more confident and able to navigate well.

“Well he’s rude so who cares.” Morgana muttered, before filling her mouth with fried rice.

The other thing Merlin liked about Morgana was that she genuinely seemed to like him, as stupid and useless as he was.

Tonight, they were working on their plan. They were going to try and bump Morgana’s grades up, so she would be able to attend the High school outside her catchment area, where people wouldn’t know she was transgender. She wasn’t ashamed, not really, but High school would be a lot harder than primary school. Merlin knew this was wisdom and not weakness, and did all he could to make sure Morgana did too.

When Morgana got her results, which were more than enough to allow her to qualify for the next district grammar school, especially with her background she cried and laughed until she was hoarse.

She was so happy, planning the time she would have with Merlin; he didn’t dare tell her that Mycroft had made him try for a scholarship in a boys academy. And that he’d gotten it.

***

Merlin did not try and fight with Mycroft. He didn’t yell or beg or get mad. He knew that the chances of him and Morgana going to the same school were low, because it wasn’t in the catchment area. And technically it wasn’t the best, either.

But he did not want to be shipped off miles and miles away, to another country all together. He was leaving England and being shipped off to Scotland.

Mycroft had told him he had to go because it was so much better there. That Merlin had one of the highest scores ever recorded on the test and he was being sent to the best school possible.

Mycroft had even said he was proud, something Merlin had always wanted to hear from him. For some reason the words made Merlin feel worse.

But Merlin knew they were really sending him away because he was a mess. It didn’t matter he read it differently off his brother, because Holmes’s could all hide their true feelings well. Merlin knew he should be sent away, because he wasn’t right and he put everyone in danger.

Sherlock had told him he hadn’t got a stupidly high score on purpose, and Merlin knew he wasn’t lying. Sherlock was in a place where he could do what he wanted, and he was in a good, very good, school but he got to come home. Sherlock liked his space to breathe, place to himself, and a boarding school would not allow that.

Morgana had shouted lots, when he told her. But they’d promised to be pen pals and meet up when Merlin came over for holidays.

He ended up going to hers, on his last night, for one last hang out.

“Why’s he here?” Arthur snapped once he spotted Merlin. If Merlin had even needed proof Arthur hadn’t visited him in the hospital that would have cinched it.

“I told you Merlin’s moving!” Morgana yelled back. “So we’re trying to spend time together before he goes!”

“Well he’s not really moving, is he? You’ll see him at weekends.” Arthur groaned. “Your little romance is sickening.”

“We’re not going out!” Morgana screamed. Which was a bit insulting, Merlin wasn’t entirely repulsive. “And he’s going to Scotland!”

Arthur stopped then, dropped his can on the floor and mouth fell open.

“Oh.” Then he shook himself, like a wet dog, and picked up his drink, muttering. “Is that why Sherlock’s so moody?”

“Doubt it.” Merlin replied sadly, drinking from his can of coke. It was unlikely Merlin’s absence would affect Sherlock. Just as it was unlikely a raindrop bothered the ocean.

Sherlock was fine at home, entirely normal. He’d barely said a word about Merlin leaving, other than telling him he’d be using him room as a bit of a store cupboard so he should take everything.

Arthur was probably just saying it, because for only one person in an entire country to care that Merlin was leaving was very sad.

“Like, leaving leaving? To Scotland?” Arthur continued. Merlin marvelled, he really was a bit dim.

“Yes Arthur!” Morgana yelled. “So get out and leave us alone!” He did, probably coerced by the tears in her eyes.

The rest of the evening was spent in friendly chat, trying to ignore that Merlin would leave soon.

Morgana fell asleep, so Merlin got his stuff together and made for the door. Arthur stopped him once he reached the kitchen, and looked outside.

“There’s no one there.” The blond told him.

“Thank you Arthur.”

“I mean, no one’s here to pick you up.” Arthur explained, sounding anxious.

“That’s because I’m walking.” Merlin replied. His fingers worked through the laces, knotting them as tight as possible so he could run through the dark if he needed to.

“It’s too dark for you to walk!” Arthur protested. “Wait, just, I’ll give you a lift.” Arthur walked off, grabbing his keys and making for the door.

“Don’t-”

“Don’t bother arguing with me.” Arthur snapped, out the door in seconds, leaving Merlin to trail behind him. “Morgana would kill me if I let her friend walk.” He shook his head, clearly surprised for the cold. “And I’d kill me if anything happened to you.”

Merlin let himself in to the red car, a ferrari, and didn’t say that he thought it was a bit of an over kill or major over compensation. Because he really didn’t want to walk and these leather seats were heated.

Surprisingly, he and Arthur ended up chatting all the way to Merlin’s. It was something weird, stupid, an old move then a song then a season then Arthur’s dream, until Merlin realized they’d been parked outside his house for five minutes.

“Thanks.” Merlin whispered, unlatching his seat belt and going to open the door.

“No, no problem.” Arthur bit his lip. “Good luck, yeah? You’ll do great.”

Merlin wasn’t sure why it meant so much Arthur had said that. Maybe because it was the first time someone said ‘good luck’ to him like they really meant it. Maybe because it knew how much effort it must have taken for Arthur to say that.

“Thank you.” Merlin replied. It was weird, to feel nicely about Arthur. He shouldn’t do. Arthur was mean to Sherlock and stupid and rude and…

Gave Merlin a lift when neither of his brothers did and wished Merlin luck when no one else did.

“You’re nothing like your brothers.” Arthur said, softly.

Softly, as though it were not the one thing Merlin hated most about himself in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be longer, and lots and lots will occur, so be ready!
> 
> Also considering making this a series
> 
> Ps thanks to all the lovely people giving me kudos and comments, you don't know what it means to me


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH IM AWFUL BUT I'LL EXPLAIN
> 
> OK, so I'm working on a Siren AU and thats almost done but i didnt want to put up yet another WIP so uh huh
> 
> this chapter has to lay ground work for next one. Will be up ASAP, bless all you lovely supporters x

“You’re new.” The other boy stated. Merlin was nervous, he’d never shared a room before and he didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t get on well.

Merlin looked him up and down, quickly. Tannish skin, round face, early signs of acne, skinny and gangly frame. Scholarship boy, probably, didn’t seem as well put together as the others and was placed with Merlin.

“Are you mute or something?” The boy laughed. He threw the door closed behind him, and launched on to the ruffled bed across from Merlin. “Oh, shit, you are, aren’t you? I didn’t mean to offend you, mate.”

“I’m not mute.” Merlin stated.

“Quiet, that’s fine, long as I didn’t piss you off day one.” The boy grinned. “I have the feeling you’ll be a good ally.”

“Your natural instincts are terrible then.” Merlin responded, genuinely. He was surprised when the boy just laughed, kindly and loudly. With a pang, he thought of Morgana.

“I’m Will.” The boy said, making no gesture to extend his hand like Mycroft would. Even still, Merlin could tell Will was a good person. Or very good at acting like one.

“I’m Merlin.” Merlin said back.

“Alright, Merlin.” Will gave him a grin full of crooked teeth. Merlin was surprised he thought of Arthur. “Let’s see your timetable.” Merlin handed it over, a little anxious for losing it despite the fact he had memorized it earlier. “Oh good, you’re a real genius, maths and science all round.”

Merlin wasn’t really sure what to say to that.

“I’m in music and arts, mostly. Although you could probably give me a hand with the core subjects.” Will handed the paper back. “And in return I’ll make arty presents for your family and make it look like you put in far more effort.” He continued, cheeky, friendly even.

There was nothing in the world Mycroft and Sherlock would sneer at more than a home made gift. But Merlin somehow knew it was rude to say so.

He felt a lot better, about leaving home and his friend behind, at least whilst Will was smiling at him and making jokes.

***

Merlin was more hurt than he should be by the lack of effort Sherlock put in to the letter.

‘Dear Merlin.

Please inform Mycroft I have replied your letters and I am not ignoring you. Which you have accused me of in seven previous letters and Mycroft even more so.

SH.’

It wasn’t as if Merlin had expected his brother to wax poetry, but seeing as each of Merlin’s letters took up for sheets of paper he hoped for something that would fill more than the back of a stamp.

Even so, he folded it gently and placed it under the bed with Mycroft and Morgana’s letters.

Mycroft’s letters were school focused, business headed and a little strict. But Merlin could tell Mycroft really did care, and he promised once he learnt to drive he would take Merlin down for Christmas.

Morgana’s letters, on the other hand, were always long, cheerful, feisty and funny, like she was. Will probably got sick of Merlin rereading them and giggling, or making Will read over the bits Merlin liked most.

“Merlin, I do not understand the inside jokes you have with a girl you knew almost a year ago. I’m sorry; please stop showing them to me.” Will said, gently. Well, gently for Will.

Surprisingly, Morgana occasionally told Merlin that Arthur had been asking for him. It was even more surprising to Merlin that it sent flickers through his body.

***

In truth, boarding school ended up suiting him far better than life at his home could have.

He quickly ferreted out the positive and negative attributes of his genetics, without the overbearing shadows of his brothers, and began to use them to his advantage. He quickly learnt how to be the smartest without arrogance or question, which neither of his brothers mastered. He scored top marks and helped others do the same. He made lots of friends, although none as close as he was with Will or Morgana or his brothers.

His teachers seemed to like him, too. They appreciated that he was actually trying, even if he didn’t have to try as hard as everyone else. His favourite teacher, Mr Balinor in the chemistry department, made Merlin realize the level of intelligence was not what mattered, but what a person did with it.

For the first time Merlin could remember, he thought of something he was better than his brothers at.

***

The letters Merlin received from his brothers became increasingly worrying. He usually sent them each personal and very long letters, not expecting much back from Sherlock.

At first, the letters were fine. They were a little dull, and Mycroft really only drilled him for grades and Sherlock talked about his experiments. But then they got a little weird, Mycroft being more distant than usual and Sherlock being even more messy and grumpy than usual.

But Merlin was so tired of trying to hold his family together. They didn’t answer any of his questions properly, and he knew what was happening couldn’t be his fault when he was so far away.

Before long, their letters were bi monthly and postcard length.

Merlin didn’t care; he spoke to Morgana enough to forget about the other things.

***

“Alright, Mordred.” Merlin explained. “When you’re differentiating, you times by the power and reduce the power by one.” When Mordred passed his exam and got to keep his scholarship, it made Merlin feel amazing. He didn’t understand how when he told Sherlock, his brother was just angry he didn’t ask for money.

He was getting really worried about Sherlock. His brother kept asking for money, and he sounded so jittery.

***

‘Oh Mycroft I have far more important things to do than’ Merlin heard the phone rustling as it was thrust at Sherlock. ‘Oh, happy birthday Merlin. Don’t get too drunk, bye.’ Mycroft pulled the phone back to himself, gave Merlin a stern ‘happy birthday’ wish, and hung up.

Not as if thirteen was important or anything.

It had been the same for his last two birthdays, but it still stung. He felt as though Sherlock could never be arsed speaking to him. Fair enough, Mycroft was really busy at his new job, but Sherlock hadn’t been doing anything.

Merlin sloped off to his room, feeling angry and hurt.

“Surprise!” A chorus called. Merlin all but jumped out of his skin, falling against the light switch to illuminate his room. “Happy birthday!”

The light flashed on to reveal an entire hoard of people. At least thirty of them, all crammed in to his tiny box room. At the front was Will, huge smile on his face.

“Jesus, Merlin, I’ve never seen you look so gormless!” Will stood up, giving Merlin a gentle hug. Because he knew Merlin needed to be handled with care and never made fun of him. A few other people gave him soft hugs, but most were too nervous after seeing him knock in to his table and break a rib on the first day of classes. Their smiles were more than enough.

Merlin wanted to say something stupid, like ‘is this for me?’ Because it should be obvious, really, and he didn’t need the deductive powers of a Holmes to know that it was clear this part was for him. Still, though, he couldn’t really believe it.

Even later that night, when there were more than fifty people and the party spilled out on the corridor, and the dorm master just gave them a wink and acted like he hadn’t seen a thing, Merlin could barely believe it was real.

***

Merlin would never have described his home life as comfortable. But it was never this painful, and overall awkward.

“Mycroft should be back soon.” He said to Sherlock. His brother looked up, twitching as though electrocuted. Sherlock’s fingers were dancing over the neck of his violin, plucking out a staccato rhythm that matched Merlin’s heartbeat. Over and over, the same melody that went agonisingly monotonous. Sherlock could make a violin weep a tune and bring an audience to shivers.

Sherlock leaned further forward, muttering.

Merlin did know, really. He was smart enough to notice Sherlock’s grey skin and jittery nerves. Sherlock’s deep eyes smudged with darkness. Merlin guessed that if he rolled up Sherlock’s sleeves he’d see pinpricks.

Merlin knew not to say a thing, though.

“So, Mycroft’s finally got himself in with the Government.” Merlin smiled. “Do you think we could manage to get him to send military secrets our way.”

“Don’t patronise me.” Sherlock snapped. It was the first thing he had said to Merlin since he’d gotten home.

“I was just wanting to talk.”

“Grow up. What is there to say?” His brother snapped.

Merlin found the only thing to say was that he was ‘staying at Morgana’s, I’ll be back tomorrow.’ He doubted Sherlock even listened.

***

Mycroft had literally refused to come and get him. Two days before he was meant to pick Merlin up. And he had argued ‘it wasn’t possible’ to wire Merlin the funds for a train.

And no one else lived in the deepest bloody corner of England. Any chance he’d had had been picked up by a loving relative a few days ago. By decent families who weren’t out of their minds and entirely emotionally constipated.

“Hey Morgana.” He muttered through the phone. The school had a large phone booth that the queue was usually too long to bother with. As everyone had gone home with their families, there was no queue at all now.

“You sound miserable.” She stated. Merlin knew that over the years that they hadn’t seen each other, she had become far more confident. It worried him as much as it made him happy. Morgana was the kind of woman who could bring the world to its knees and have it adore her at the same time.

“I’ve taught you well, grasshopper.” He laughed.

“Don’t need to have your psychic powers to hear the eeyore tone in your voice.” She scoffed. Merlin could tell she was biting her lips. Nervous but pretending to be anything but. “What is it then?”

Merlin had called her because he’d have to break a promise.

“I can’t come to your New Year’s thing, sorry Morgs.” He confessed. Morgana had a weird notion Merlin had zero social life and friends. But she really only thought that because she was a hurricane of popularity and Merlin was, a little below average.

“Merlin!” She was whining and angry at once. “You’re coming. I don’t care if you’re cult brothers-”

“Morgana.”

“-Aren’t allowing you to come! Tell them to piss off!” She was yelling. “Come on Merlin, you promised!” She was pining down the phone. “Please. I never beg.”

“Morgana, I literally can’t get there.”

“Mycroft is coming to get you, don’t give me that crap.” She muttered down the phone. “Merlin, I know you don’t like all this social stuff, but you absolutely promised me and I haven’t seen you in over two years. What kind of friend are you?”

“One who can’t get a lift Morgana!” He yelped down the phone. “Mycroft won’t come, alright? And before you get on at me for not getting a train, there are none up this high. And a taxi will be in the hundreds. And I am not getting a plane or walking.” He was about to hang up, far too tired to fight and far too tired over all.

“What?”

“You bloody well heard me.” He grumbled. For some reason he hadn’t raised his hand to the hook. Probably as Morgana was right to be angry.

“Oh, Merlin.” She sounded so impossibly sat Merlin wanted to snarl. He didn’t, though. “Wait, just stay on the line. I’ll be one minute.”

He heard her scuttle along the floor, shoes clacking on the wood as she went in search of something. Merlin tapped his foot. His teacher Gaius was staying over the holidays. Merlin wondered if he could have dinner at Gaius’ house on Christmas. It was a little ‘Catcher in the Rye’ but it was better than being alone.

“Are you still there?” Morgana’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Right, well we have family here over Christmas, so Uther says you can’t really stay.” She started rambling. Merlin wondered if he should tell her it was kind that she asked. “But Arthur told Uther you were more than welcome to stay at his, and he’s coming up to get you tomorrow so just be ready-” Merlin almost choked on air. “So I’ll call you again tomorrow when he sets off, alright?”

“Morgana, wait, no I can’t-”

“Well you are. Credit’s running out, bye dear!” Before Merlin had time to argue, she was gone.

He wasn’t sure if he was happy or not.


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin wasn’t used to finding people beautiful. There were people in school he knew were attractive. And there were people online his friends Merlin sent videos of he knew were ‘hot.’ He even looked at paintings and knew the person was stunning, at least in the eyes of the artist.

But he had never felt of someone as beautiful. With the glints of sun beneath the cloud shimmering in Arthur’s hair and the raindrops on the windscreen echoed on Arthur’s pale gold skin as his crooked teeth etch over his lip, there was nothing else Merlin could use to describe him.

Merlin wasn’t really sure what to do about it, either. It felt like one of those things will taught him you didn’t comment on. But Will wasn’t here and Merlin didn’t know what to say, and he just wanted to say something. He wondered if Arthur should know how, special he must be. Merlin wasn’t trying to sound as though his opinion was the word of god… but. He never thought things like this. It must mean there was something incredible to Arthur.

Merlin kept himself quiet though.

“How come you were able to come get me?” Merlin asked, tenderly. “Thanks, by the way.”

“I was up for work.” Arthur nodded.

“But you’re plane came in a few days ago…” He trailed off when Arthur didn’t reply.

“You can change it.” Arthur grunted, pushing his head to the radio. Merlin listened to the harsh beat of a song Gwaine would play. It was loud and quick and made Merlin wince. But according to Will Merlin’s music was a touch slow and weird for normal people. He always let Merlin listen to whatever he wanted as long as Will got a turn later.

“This is what Morgana likes, isn’t it?” Merlin asked. He needed to prepare himself for her party, after all. Arthur frowned when asked that, and Merlin wondered what he’d said to annoy him.

“Probably.” The blond snapped back.

“What?” Merlin asked. “Did I possible say there to offend you?”

“What?”

“You got quiet, your brow crinkled and you flexed your hands.” Merlin listed. He leaned backwards a bit, stretching in to the seat and staring out the window. Miles of rugged Scottish landscape whizzed by.

Arthur didn’t say anything, but his jaw clenched and his throat shuddered. Merlin remembered he hated to be analysed.

“Sorry.” Merlin whispered. He turned round and pushed his head against the cold window. He felt stupid, getting closer to home. It had been a long time since he’d been in London. As far away as it was, as much as he’d missed it, the closeness was daunting.

For a few miles, it was utter silence.

“Just.” Arthur sounded like he didn’t know what he was saying. “Forget it.”

Merlin felt as though Arthur meant more than his hissy fit earlier.

“So…” Arthur said. Merlin was a bit surprised he wanted to talk, but didn’t say anything. “How’s school been?”

Merlin realized he hadn’t been asked that in weeks. His friends complained about being asked every day, yet he was rarely asked at all now. He wasn’t bothered too much, his brothers weren’t great with feelings. But there was something very wrong if Mycroft wasn’t hounding him about marks.

He felt a bit ill.

“Good, thanks.” Merlin said back. Inside, he smiled to himself at the prospects he’d recently opened up.

“You’ll be done in a few years.” Arthur looked like he was trying to find something to say. “It may be hard, but when you’re out the guy who bullied you will really regret it and-”

“Why are you assuming I’m being bullied?” Merlin yelped, incredulous. Arthur’s eyes went wide, and he looked down and coughed. No one ever physically bullied Merlin, he’d shatter too easily. And no one would dare try and say anything because Merlin could do far worse.

“I just… uh.” Arthur trailed off. Merlin thought it was so strange that Arthur was an adult now, a proper grown up. “I mean, you’re a little scrawny thing and you blabber on like you know everyone.” Arthur shrugged.

“At least when I psycho analyse people I get it right.” Merlin said, not even bothering to be insulted. “Where are all your assumptions coming from, anyway?”

“You were always like that. And you always got bullied.”

“You’re basing that off me as a kid.” Merlin argued. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to defend himself to Arthur.

“You’re still a kid.” Arthur laughed in an odd tone. “So what, you’re prom king now?” Arthur smirked. For some reason, it sent Merlin’s thoughts whirring.

“Oddly enough an all-boys academy aren’t all that bothered with the idea of a prom.” Merlin scoffed back.

“Shame.” Arthur nodded. “You’d look pretty in a dress.” Then he went bright red and looked down. Merlin really didn’t know how to explain that. 

“I’d look *gorgeous* in a dress, you mean.” Merlin smiled. He didn’t want it to be awkward, for some reason he didn’t want to stop talking with Arthur. “You, on the other hand, would look like a brute.”

“I don’t think that carries the sting you meant it too, Merlin.” But Arthur was smiling. “But, you know, what are the life plans?”

“I’d quite like to teach maths.” Merlin replied. He would like to teach maths, that wasn’t a lie at all. But, for some reason, Merlin felt as though Arthur was asking for something else entirely.

“That’ll be ages in Uni.” Arthur nodded. “Where would you go?”

“Well…” Merlin sounded confused. “I mean, I’m done. I did it all in school.” Along with about twenty other courses. Still not lying.

Arthur tipped his head back and gave a light groan. It sounded comical more than anything else.

“I don’t know why I thought you would be *normal.*” Arthur shook his head. “God forbid.” For a bit, they drove on in silence, but Arthur looked confused. “Why teaching?”

“Because I like it?” Merlin replied, slowly. He did, he did love teaching. He loved helping someone’s mind puzzle out a problem to completion. He loved watching how other people thought and considered. He loved feeling as though his mindless facts were really important, he loved watching someone agree with him.

“I can’t imagine you wanting to help people.” Arthur laughed. It stung, for some reason.

“Why not?” Merlin snapped, defensive. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know your brother’s.”

“I’m not like them.” It still hurt, that Merlin wasn’t like his heroes. That they couldn’t really be bothered with him. “Even so, you only get off with being an assuming arse if you’re right.”

“So that’s how you do it.” Arthur sneered. “You don’t know a bloody thing, either, really. It’s all just guesses, sitting around and having a go.”

The sadistic parts of Merlin loved these moments. When people didn’t have a clue how they did it and tried to piece it out. Tried to untangle the web. There was something else there, though, a frustration and an eagerness to understand for more reasons than curiosity.

Frustration. Fresh, not just lingering over petty teenage angst with Sherlock.

“Of course it’s all just guessing. That’s all anything is, a systematic go of assumptions and trials, chance relaying over and over in a continuous cycle.” Merlin leaned back, closed his eyes.

“It’s a load of crap, stop trying to up play it.” Arthur snapped. Merlin had it. There were three people who would wind Arthur up with such efficiency and Merlin didn’t have the time for it. Arthur would have constricted himself to a job which Sherlock would never do.

“Pisses you off having Mycroft as a boss, I bet. Constant reminder of everything annoying about Sherlock, only now you don’t get to fight back because he’s in charge. Best part is you don’t even like government work, you’re only doing it because your father-”

“You have no idea-” Arthur looked panicked, irritated.

“- cajoled you in to it. So, you decided to go as high up the ladder as it went to impress him. Only Mycroft is on your back at every bloody turn and you aren’t going anywhere. Like a hamster on a wheel.”

“Shut up.” Arthur snapped.

“And it all feels so pointless, you work so hard and none of it ever changes. But-”

“I said shut up!” Arthur bellowed, his hands tightening on the wheel as he turned to scream at Merlin.

“Then, you found that one little thing that made it all seem a bit more, worth it? Less pointless? Easier. A person. A girl. Only, that didn’t last either-”

Arthur stopped the car, breath cutting out through his nostrils and jaw tightening. Which did awfully uncomfortable, things, to Merlin and made him stop the train of thought.

“It’s a long walk back to London from here.” Eventually Arthur snarled. “Now, you know everything, so you know I’d do it.”

Merlin didn’t say anything, simply shifted. It was cold, raining, dark and getting darker. No towns for tens of miles, he’d freeze to death. Despite trying to quell and train himself, Arthur was still compulsive and quick to boil. He would leave Merlin to walk. He’d quickly turn around and come back but it wouldn’t work well for Merlin.

The engine started again, and they drove on.

Merlin’s phone beeped, and he quickly read over the text.

“Who is it?” Arthur muttered, gruff.

“Why do you care?”

“It might be Morgana uninviting you in which case I can drop you off and go away.” Arthur grinned, but to himself, not wanting Merlin to see it. Spiteful, hot head. “Who is it, then?”

‘Don’t come see us. Busy. SH.’

“Network.” Merlin slipped the phone back in to his pocket. He didn’t want Arthur to know about Sherlock not wanting to see him. Didn’t want him to know Sherlock must be in trouble. Didn’t want him to know Merlin wasn’t worthy. It was obvious, but he didn’t need to reinforce it.

“Figures you wouldn’t have any friends either.”

Merlin ground his teeth. His brothers didn’t need friends, didn’t like them didn’t want them. They didn’t like the company of hum drum normal minds, didn’t appreciate how incredible they were.

“Forget I said that.” Arthur murmured.

“I never forget anything.”

The night began to fully sprawl above them. Stars piercing through the darkness.

“Our old dorm teacher told us that stars were holed. That the light of God shone through them.” Merlin grinned. “I love all those religious stories.”

“You don’t strike me as the type.”

“I always like stories.”

Arthur hmm’d.

“So, when do you think you’ll get a teaching job?” And, for a minute, Merlin forgot himself. Forgot the quick little, not a lie but not the truth, story he’d sung to Arthur. Forgot, for a second, the little game he’d be playing with the whole world because this time he had to play his brothers. Forgot what he’d made of his future and how his family would crumble it. He needed to be more careful, next time.

“Soon as.” Merlin lied. Then he wondered if Arthur would know anything about what he’d be doing. Arthur was high up in government, after all. But if Mycroft didn’t know, there was no way anyone below him would. Too high a risk. 

“Why didn’t Mycroft come and get you?” Arthur questioned. It jabbed Merlin the wrong way. He didn’t want his sore spots to be jabbed at. “I mean, he’s not that busy at work.”

And, for a second, Merlin thought Arthur felt bad for him. Merlin thought Arthur was pitying him, and it didn’t make him feel broken and stupid and weak. It made him feel cared for, protected.

“Has he said much about work? You’ll probably be able to get stuff out of him without him knowing it.” Arthur grinned.

Then it twigged. Arthur was trying to pull information out of him. Arthur was trying to get an edge on Mycroft. Arthur was using him.

“I imagine Mycroft’s busy at work.” Merlin muttered, trying to ignore the feeling of suspicion along his skin.

“Right. What kind of thing would he be busy with?” Arthur continued. Merlin would have thought Arthur would have learnt, by now. That it was a bad idea to try and manipulate a Holmes. Especially Merlin.

Two ideas ran through Merlin’s head, two sticking out from the thousands.

He could destroy Arthur’s career. He could take his phone and hack in to government security, text the messages somewhere. But it was a bit much.

So, he took Arthur’s phone, and proceeded to mess around with it. Not horrifically so, just enough to be ridiculously annoying. So he deleted everything off the phone (but made a backup for later) except a few contacts. He changed ‘Dad’ to the name of a person Arthur had clearly been sleeping round with. He switched the ringtones to a high pitched scream then passed the phone back. Arthur found he couldn’t unlock it, then stared at Merlin as the new pictures came up.

“How much did it hurt to find out your fiancée and your best friend would betray you like that?”

Merlin’s out on the side of the road before he has time to enjoy it.

***

The thing is, the fact Arthur is driving at a few miles an hour alongside him makes Merlin even angrier than if he’d sped off.

It makes him even angrier when he taps the side of the car, because no one is winning this game anyway, and Arthur doesn’t flinch.

It’s quite dark, but it’s not too cold. It’s not late enough for this to be described as torture, either. But it’s definitely not safe, and Morgana would be furious. So Merlin won’t tell her, won’t upset her, and really he probably deserves this.

He was about to beg for forgiveness, and if that didn’t work turn around back to school, when he stumbled over his ankle and yelped.

Merlin checked himself over, relieved beyond belief that nothing had broken. He tried to pull himself up, tenderly, to make sure nothing shattered.

“Christ.” Arthur was beside him, pulling him up so gently. “Jesus bloody, are you ok?” He sounded as shaky as Merlin felt. It didn’t matter how many times he hurt himself, each break was a terror to him. He started looking Merlin up and down until Merlin nodded.

Then, tenderly and not delicately, Arthur helped Merlin limp back in to the car. People only ever touched Merlin like he was made of glass. Like they could barely stand to hold his baby bird bones in their hands. But Arthur wasn’t. He was being careful and not cautious, and for some reason it made Merlin want to cry. Arthur sat him in, buckled him up, closed the door and went back to his own seat.

“We’re going to stop by A and E, alright?” Arthur murmured. He grabbed a pack of paracetamol from the car pocket and placed two in Merlin’s hand, along with a bottle of water he pulled out from under his seat.

“I don’t need-”

“I know, but I want to make sure you’re definitely Ok, and I am not a doctor and you’re biased.” Arthur murmured. He sent Merlin’s chair back, so he was more comfortable. “Go to sleep, we’ll stop by the nearest hospital. It’ll just be a few hours.”

And Merlin forgot how angry he was, and went to sleep.

***

Merlin wasn’t afraid of pain medication anymore.

He took it dry this time, sat on a bench outside with Arthur because they both needed fresh air.

“I’ve never sprained anything before.” Merlin chirped. He felt easier, lighter, floating on a bubble or something nice.

“Congratulations.” Arthur smirked. But in a friendly way, not in the malicious way that wound Merlin up. But he looked a little guilty, too.

“It’s not your fault, by the way.” Merlin assured. He felt very confident, suddenly, feeling sleepy and easy. “You shouldn’t feel bad.” He patted Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur looked down, eyes closed and face pained.

“That was stupid.” He muttered. “Pushing you out of the car. That was so stupid.” He shook his head. “You could have been really hurt.”

“Mmm. Well, I was deserving it a little.” Merlin mumbled.

“Wow, a Holmes ap…” Arthur opened his mouth, like he was about to say something. “Sorry. Forget that.”

Apologising. Arthur was going to make fun of him again. But he hadn’t, so Merlin let it slip.

“It’s Ok.”

“It’s not. For Christ’s sake, I’m thirty and I’m acting like a kid!” Arthur shook his head again. “Sorry.”

“Just forget it.”

“You don’t forget anything.”

“I’ll try.” But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to forget Arthur smiling or Arthur’s hands or Arthur liking him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop is not working and doing this has been a nightmare to write and upload so so so sorry for the wait!


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